


mumble and sigh

by couldaughter



Category: Emmerdale
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-30
Updated: 2016-10-30
Packaged: 2018-08-28 00:06:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,908
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8423032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/couldaughter/pseuds/couldaughter
Summary: “Careful,” Aaron said, a fond smile on his face. “People might start thinking you’ve gone soft.”“You won’t tell anyone, will you? I’ve got an image to maintain.”





	

In his thirty years on Earth, Robert had amassed an impressively long list of things he didn’t like. These included fire (no surprise), guns (shocker!) and, unsurprisingly, all of his exes. Although he’d grown up just enough to admit that last one was mostly his own fault.

The newest addition to the list was large bodies of water. Luckily he didn’t go to the seaside that often, or he’d be right fucked.

He wasn’t the biggest fan of hospitals, either, but he could make it through well enough. It wasn’t like he had much of a choice, anyway. Not while Aaron was there.

The hospital blanket was rough between his fingers. He’d been crumpling it and then smoothing it down for hours, just to have something to do with his hands; there were too many important wires and tubes to risk anything else.

His hands still felt raw from wrenching the steering column up and away. Pulling back from the bed, he flexed them, cautiously, and winced at the ache. Even so, they looked okay; not as red and splotchy as they’d been the day before.

His head hurt less than it had, the black eye he’d got from the dashboard already beginning to fade. He almost felt normal, or as close to it as anyone managed to get in Emmerdale. The backache from the visitor's chair was starting to get to him, but he wasn't going to complain when it was the best way to keep an eye on Aaron.

Aaron, who’d asked Robert to marry him. Robert smiled, small and private, at the memory.

“What’s got you so happy?”

Robert looked up to find Aaron, eyes open, smiling back at him. He flushed.

“Nothin’.”

“Oh yeah, a whole lot of nothin’,” said Aaron, amused. “I see you’ve changed clothes, finally.”

“Well, the nurses were starting to look at me funny,” Robert replied. “And I suppose you might’ve had something to do with it.” He winked.

“Nice to be appreciated,” said Aaron, as he pushed himself up with a groan.

Robert grabbed his hand as he got settled, rolling his eyes. “Try not to do yourself another injury. Although,” he added, leaning in a little. “I suppose you _are_ in the best place for it.”

“Do one,” Aaron said, companionably. “You have to be nice to me, I’m in hospital.”

“Is that the law, then? You know neither of us are great at being law-abiding.”

“I’m turning over a new leaf,” said Aaron. “Upstanding citizen Aaron Dingle.”

“I’ll believe that when I see it,” said Robert. He leaned in for a quick kiss, then stood up. “I’d better let Chas know you’re awake.”

“Thanks,” said Aaron. “You got work, then?”

“Yeah,” said Robert, the single word functioning as both a confirmation and an apology. “Adam needs a hand at the scrapyard - can’t really run it on his own right now, considering the circumstances. I’ll be back as soon as I can, alright?”

“Alright.” Aaron smiled. “See you.”

 

* * *

 

Robert relaxed as he pulled into the scrapyard, cutting the engine with a sigh of relief.

He hadn’t had to drive himself anywhere since before the accident, and now he was back to it he wasn’t sure he was much of a fan anymore. There were a lot of variables he hadn’t really considered before. A lot of ways things could go dramatically wrong, very quickly.

Ending up at the bottom of a lake, for instance.

He’d even driven under the speed limit for once. Robert hoped his driving instructor would be proud; the only other time he could remember driving slowly on purpose had been the day of his driving test.

A couple of hours at the scrapyard passed by without much incident. Robert cleared a good chunk of the inbox, pulled out half of a Honda’s insides when the portacabin got too stuffy, and went home to The Woolpack feeling altogether less stressed than he had when he’d arrived.

The drive was a bit better. It’d been raining, in the morning, the roads shiny and slick, but that had mostly dried up by the afternoon. One less variable to worry about; a little less tension in his shoulders, and a little less of his brain focused on imagining nightmare scenarios.

Still, it was good to get out of the car and into the pub. He pushed open the door with a grin, and dropped onto a stool at the bar gratefully.

Vic gave him a sympathetic look. “Work alright?”

“Oh, same old, same old,” he said, automatically. “Nothing too complicated, just needed doing ASAP is all.”

She nodded. “And are _you_ alright?” At that, she leaned forward over the bar, lowering her voice. A few strands of hair had escaped from her blue cap over the day, curling gently.

Robert shrugged, uncomfortable. “As well as can be expected,” he muttered. “Not like I drowned.”

Vic rolled her eyes, straightening up. “Well excuse me for showing a bit of concern for my big brother,” she said, grinning. “Don’t bottle it all up, alright?”

“I’ll do my best,” he replied. “Can I have a pint, now?”

“Well, I s’pose,” said Vic, still grinning. “Since you’re not driving anywhere, after.”

Robert felt himself twitch at that, a cold feeling starting to spread through his chest. Frowning, he watched Vic pull his pint and then concentrated on drinking it. It wasn’t great beer, but it’d do.

“Thanks,” he said, belatedly. “Did _you_ have an alright day?”

“Ooh, let me savour that for a second,” said Vic. She paused, one hand held in the air. “Alright, done. Yeah, it’s been okay. Not much doing, business has been a bit slow.”

“No surprises there,” said Robert. “The hospital’s packed, though.”

“Right!” Vic said, loudly, smacking a hand on her forehead. “I completely forgot to ask - Aaron's doing alright, isn’t he?”

“He’s doing better,” said Robert, feeling a genuine smile spread across his face. “Only woke up about two minutes before I had to leave for work, the layabout.”

“Bless him,” said Vic, fondly. “Might be a good thing - wouldn’t want him to get sick of your face this soon, would we?”

Robert laughed, his gaze shifting to his ring finger. The band shone gently in the bar light. “No, really not.”

“Oi, Vic.” Marlon’s voice drifted in from the back. “I don’t pay you to chat.”

“You’re not the one paying me, mate,” said Vic, cheerfully. “See you later, Robert.”

“See ya,” said Robert.

 

* * *

 

He got halfway up the stairs to his and Aaron’s room before the dizziness hit.

 _Shockingly_ , he hadn’t managed to escape the car crash completely unscathed - the doctor who’d examined him had diagnosed a concussion, and Robert could definitely believe it, the way his vision had started to swim.

He sat down on the stairs, cradling his head in his hands. The awful, sick feeling in his throat receded slowly as he took careful breaths in. The doctor had warned him about that, too, after Aaron had been stabilised after the flat line and Robert had left the room to vomit up what felt like everything he’d eaten in the last year.

If he listened carefully enough, head in hands in the stairwell, he could swear he heard the _beep beep beep_ of a heart monitor. It was unnerving, to say the least.

“Hey, you’re blocking the stairs.”

Not raising his head, Robert groaned. “Come off it, Liv, there’s plenty of room to get past.” His voice sounded strange and far away, to him, but he’d got the words out. That was the important thing.

Liv wasn’t fooled. “Ugh, not the point, idiot.” She sat down next to him, the stairs narrow enough that he had to shift a little to give her enough room.

Thankfully she didn’t try to hug him, or something excruciating like that.

“How was school?”

Liv snorted. “Like I was gonna go in today.”

“Fair enough,” sighed Robert. “If Aaron weren’t in hospital he’d be having words, though.”

“If he weren’t in hospital he’d be dead, and I’d definitely not be in school then.” Her voice wobbled.

Robert flinched. “That’s not funny, Liv,” he said, voice still faint. “You know what I meant.”

“Sorry,” she said. “Let’s be honest, I would’ve skived even without the special circumstances.”

“Well, at least we can be truthful with one another,” he replied, risking lifting his head. His vision was still a little blurry, but it wasn’t too bad. The numbness in his hands was a problem for another time.

He pushed himself up from the step and reached a hand down to help up Liv. She took it without complaint, which told Robert she was properly sorry.

“I’ll take you to see him after school tomorrow, alright? And don’t think I won’t call the school to check you’ve been in.”

“Yeah,” said Liv, quietly. “I guess that’d be alright. Thanks, Robert”

Robert shrugged, bone tired, already up the stairs to the landing. “Don’t mention it.”

 

* * *

 

The kitchen was empty. _Small blessings_ , thought Robert, sitting down at the table and resting his head on his folded arms.

He was tired, but couldn’t quite switch off enough to sleep; the ticking of the kitchen clock echoed loudly in his ears. When he closed his eyes it almost drowned out the sounds of the road outside.

When he looked up, some time later, the clock was at half six. There was a mug of cold tea at his side he didn’t remember making, and Chas was bustling around making a sandwich. He jumped when she set the plate down on the counter with a rattle.

“Oh, nice to see you’ve rejoined the land of the living,” she said, carrying the plate over and settling into the chair opposite Robert. “Never seen anyone sleep sat on that chair. You must’ve needed a doze.”

He shrugged. He hadn’t thought he’d actually gone to sleep, but then he’d been so tired anything was possible. “Been a long couple of days.”

“Tell me about it,” said Chas, resting an elbow on the table. “At least we’re upright though. Aaron's going stir crazy in that bed.”

Robert smiled. “If he could get up without falling over he’d be back here faster’n we could blink.”

“Not on my watch,” replied Chas. She took a bite of her sandwich, then frowned.

“What is it?”

“I’ve only gone and forgotten to butter the bread,” said Chas. “God, I’ll forget my head next.”

Robert, caught off guard, giggled. It wasn’t his proudest moment.

“Oh, you laugh now,” said Chas, narrowing her eyes. “I’ve seen you burn toast more times than I can count.”

He huffed, burying his head back in his arms. The light was starting to get to him.

Chas put a hand on his arm. It was weird, how nice she’d been to him in the past few days.

“You doing okay?”

“I’m _fine_ ,” he said, head still buried. “Just getting a headache.”

“Oh, sue me for trying,” said Chas, amused. “I’ll get you an ibuprofen.”

The sound of Chas rummaging through the first aid kit cut through the fog of a headache that’d been forming.

“I won’t be making a habit of this, just so you know,” she said, setting down a glass of water and the blister pack of pills. “I’ll get back to hating you just as soon as your head’s better.”

“I didn’t doubt that for a second,” said Robert. He swallowed two tablets with a mouthful of water, and smiled up at her. “The feeling’s mutual, of course.”

“Oh, of course.” Chas smiled right back.

 

* * *

 

Robert went up to bed not long after that. It was only 8pm when he turned off the side lamp; the ibuprofen had taken the edge off the pain, but he didn’t want to risk making it any worse.

The curtains were still open, letting in the dim glow of the streetlamp outside.

It took a long time to get to sleep. Every time Robert felt himself drifting off, that awful, sick feeling crept up his throat. Eventually, headache almost forgotten, he switched the side lamp back on and rolled over.

At the edge of the pool of light cast by the dim bulb, Robert closed his eyes.

When he woke up, in the small hours of the morning, his hands were numb.

Pushing himself upright, he curled up, forehead against his knees. It would’ve been easier if Aaron was there, _had_ been easier when he’d slept in the uncomfortable visitor’s chair, but he could manage on his own.

The street lamp, and the side lamp, had gone out while he was asleep. The bedroom was dark, and cold, and Robert couldn’t breathe.

His fingers twinged. The steering column hadn’t budged for what felt like hours, even though Robert knew it couldn’t have been more than a minute. He’d never been able to hold his breath that long, before.

Aaron had stopped breathing for longer. Not a nice thought, that.

It took a long time to get back to sleep. The lake was waiting, when he did.

He woke up again with his alarm, the clock radio blasting out some early morning Tina Turner. It felt like he hadn’t slept at all.

 

* * *

 

Another day at the scrapyard passed by. Still on edge from the lack of sleep, he avoided making any important phone calls and instead sorted out the stack of paperwork that’d been idling on Aaron’s desk.

Liv turned up at about half four.

Robert slid on his jacket and walked with her to the car. “School okay?”

“Boring, as usual,” she replied, sliding into the passenger seat. “Some boy blew up a crucible in Chemistry, that was alright.”

“Must’ve been a nightmare for the teacher,” said Robert with a laugh. “How long before you got back to actually learning anythin’?”

“Never managed it,” said Liv. “Such a shame.”

“You’re a menace,” Robert said fondly. “Get your seatbelt on.”

The sound of the engine starting made him tense up. He sighed, closed his eyes for a moment, and set off. Liv gave him a suspicious look which he pretended not to notice.

The hospital car park was still a horror to navigate, though, and it took almost as long as the drive there had to find a good space.

“You go on in,” Robert told Liv. “I’ll get the ticket.”

Liv sped off. Robert leaned back against the car door, and exhaled slowly. His head ached again.

Aaron looked pleased to see him, which made up for the long walk up to the ticket machine, back to the car, and into the hospital.

“They treating you alright?” Robert asked, slumping down in the seat closest to the bed. Liv, who was much better at finding her way around, had said her hellos and disappeared to the vending machines for a hot chocolate before Robert was through the door.

Aaron rolled his eyes. “Yeah, pretty alright. Said they’re letting me out tomorrow, as long as I keep improvin’.”

“Oh,” said Robert, shocked. “That’s… that’s pretty soon, isn’t it?”

“Wow, could you act a bit less pleased? They might think you care about me or something.”

Robert ducked his head. “Sorry. Just didn’t think you’d be well enough this quickly.” He lifted Aaron’s hand in his, brushed his lips across the knuckles. “Of course I’m pleased you’ll be out of here. The drive is a nightmare.”

“Careful,” Aaron said, a fond smile on his face. “People might start thinking you’ve gone soft.”

“You won’t tell anyone, will you? I’ve got an image to maintain.”

 

* * *

 

Getting one over on Chrissie improved Robert’s mood considerably. He’d had another restless night, hadn’t managed more than two hours together before giving up on sleep altogether at about four.

Driving was still taking a lot more concentration than usual, but the thought of her face as he’d left the house tided Robert over, shoulders loose and back straight in the driver’s seat.

Aaron was sat up when he got to the room, legs hanging over the side of the bed.

“You got everything sorted out here?” Robert asked, hovering close while Aaron pulled on his hoodie.

“One or two bits of paperwork left and then I’m all yours,” said Aaron with a smirk, fluttering his eyelashes.

Robert rolled his eyes. “C’mon then, let’s get you out of here.”

Sorting out the paperwork, loading Aaron into the wheelchair and getting back to the pub took a good hour, but it was worth it to finally get to stretch out on the sofa, Aaron’s head resting on Robert’s shoulder.

The telly was set to a re-run of Top Gear, which suited both of them well enough. Richard Hammond was halfway through battling a caravan fire when Liv came in, two full days of education in a row under her belt.

Aaron pushed himself upright, flashing her a grin. “Good day at school?”

Liv shrugged. “No explosions this time.” She dropped her bag next to the sofa and perched herself on the armrest, grinning right back. “Good to see you’re back, though. Robert’s been worried sick.”

“I’m making a coffee, can you hang on a sec with the aspersions on my character?” called Robert, halfway through filling the kettle.

“But it’s so fun windin’ you up, Robert,” said Liv. She shoved Aaron, lightly. “Don’t you think?”

“Oh, yeah,” said Aaron, cheerfully. “But maybe not right this moment, alright. Don’t you have homework you should be doing?”

With a reluctant nod, Liv disappeared upstairs with her schoolbag.

“Hey, progress,” said Robert, carrying over his mug of coffee. “A few weeks ago she’d have thrown her school planner in the recycling before coming up.”

“Destroying the evidence,” Aaron said fondly. “Guess we must be doing something right.”

 

* * *

 

It took a good few minutes to help Aaron up the stairs that night.

“Careful with the stitches,” whispered Robert. It was late enough that every creaking step risked waking up someone; if Liv lost sleep because of them she wouldn’t let Robert off the hook for a week.

Their relationship was much less fraught than it had been, but that didn’t mean Liv didn’t love an opportunity to rib him mercilessly.

Aaron elbowed him. “I _have_ had stitches before, y’know, I know what I’m doing.”

“I know, just, you’ve only just got back. And we haven’t even got up the stairs yet, I can’t imagine having to get you back down them at this hour.”

“You’re my fiancé, not my nurse,” murmured Aaron, lightly. “Thanks, though.”

Robert smiled in the dim light. “You’re welcome.”

Still supporting Aaron, one arm around his waist, Robert pushed open the bedroom door and flicked on the light.

“Right,” he said. “Pyjamas?”

Aaron gave him a look.

Robert held up his hands. “I mean, I’m not gonna stop you if you want to wear jeans to bed. Just might be a bit uncomfortable, is all.”

“Fine,” said Aaron with a yawn. He pulled off his hoodie and laid down, at a right angle to the pillows. His shoes were still on. “I’m knackered, though. Seems like a lot of effort.”

With a sigh, Robert knelt down to untie them. Aaron smirked down at him.

“Dirty sod.” As he stood up to put the shoes by the door, a wave of dizziness washed over him and he stumbled, catching himself with a hand on the wall. He took a deep breath in; let it out slowly.

Aaron sat up. “Robert?”

It took another deep breath before he could respond. “Just a second,” he said, dropping the shoes and putting the newly free hand on his face. “Shockingly, there are some consequences of knocking yourself out on a car dashboard.”

The sharp flash of pain followed by darkness wasn’t something he liked to dwell on. He shivered, took a blind step towards the bed and collapsed down next to Aaron.

A hand touched his shoulder. “Ooh, an honest answer on the first try. You _must_ be tired.” Aaron sounded fond, with serious undertones of worry.

Robert opened his eyes, cautiously. Nothing was blurring or doubling, so he kept them open. He turned his head and smiled across at Aaron, who looked just as worried as he’d sounded. “Blame it on the concussion.”

Aaron turned onto his side, wincing as his stitches pulled. “Well, feel free to keep it up.” He leaned in for a quick kiss, pressing a hand against Robert’s chest just over his own surgical scar. “It’s been a good few months knowing what you’re actually thinking.”

“I’ll try,” said Robert, somewhere close to serious. “It’s hard to break the habit of a lifetime, you know.”

“So I’ve heard,” Aaron replied. He shifted, and sighed. “Right, it really is time for bed now, I am _knackered_.”

Having Aaron next to him, curled into himself and sleeping soundly, didn’t make getting to sleep any easier for Robert. It made the experience of lying awake a little better, though.

It took a good hour and a half after that to drop off himself, the sick feeling in his throat overwhelmed by the exhaustion he’d been battling for the past few days.

The dream wasn’t finished when he woke up to Aaron calling his name.

“Robert?”

He curled up again, forehead to knees. “Give me a minute.”

Slowly, he got himself under control. He lifted his head, gave Aaron a weak smile. “Sorry for waking you up. And at this hour, too.” His voice was hoarse.

The look Aaron gave him at that was almost historically unimpressed. “I’ve woken you up enough times, Robert.”

There’d been a lot of early mornings for them both.

“Is it alright if I touch you?” Aaron asked quietly.

Robert nodded. Aaron put an arm around his shoulders, tugging him into his side.

“I guess I should’ve expected this,” said Robert, after a long silence. “Although, it’s not like this was my first car accident.”

Aaron snorted. “You’re a regular Knievel, alright.”

“Nah,” said Robert. “I’d never suit those outfits.” He paused. “Are you alright, talking about what happened?”

He felt more than saw Aaron shrug. It was very dark; only the moonlight filtering through the curtains kept it from being pitch black. “Put it this way: I would’ve woken you up if you hadn’t woken me first.”

“We are a pair, aren’t we?” Robert laughed, without much humour. “It’s- Aaron, you died.”

Aaron tightened his hold on Robert. “So I’ve heard.”

“Twice.” Robert rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Could’ve done without the dramatics in the car, and all.” He smiled weakly. “Not that I can blame you. I would’ve been worse, probably.”

“That’s me,” said Aaron. “Dramatic to my last breath.”

“Don’t."

There was another silence.

“Do you want to try sleeping again?” Aaron rested his chin on Robert’s shoulder.

“Might as well,” said Robert. He paused. Might as well get it out of the way. “I- Do you think your counselor would like me?”

“Who wouldn’t like _you_?” Without looking at him, Robert knew Aaron was smirking. “But, um, yeah. I’ll… ask her about it. Unless you want to.”

Robert sighed. He was feeling that kind of early morning self awareness he liked to avoid. “In the morning I might not. Don’t let me back out, alright?”

“Alright,” said Aaron. He tugged Robert back down. “Love you. Goodnight.”

“Love you,” Robert replied, softly. “Thanks.”

“Don’t mention it,” mumbled Aaron, into his pillow. “Go to sleep, Rob.”

For once, he didn’t argue.

**Author's Note:**

> this is actually called 'rosie has horrible regrets'. subtitle: 'reading week is _totally_ for binge watching a soap opera, not for working'.
> 
> posting this now because it's definitely going to get jossed soon enough, but i hope everyone likes this small contribution to the Robert Sugden Has A Bad Week subgenre.
> 
> title is from the dug out by siegfried sassoon because? i'm predictable? catch me on tumblr @sedsycat if you feel like it :D


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